Stormy Skies
by Icepaw99
Summary: A group of big cats who have known an easy life are suddenly released into the wilderness. There they must learn to hunt and survive, but they don't know what to do. Until one cat from each group begins to have strange dreams... Telling them what they must do to survive. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"...And so, I crouched, every muscle tense and poised, ready to fling myself into battle, to twist and slash so ferociously that no cat would dare face me again. I leapt..."

The lion sprang, hind legs unfolding in an explosion of released tension, forelegs stretching so far that the tendons jutted out, clearly visible underneath golden fur. His claws glinted, toes spread apart, reaching for the enemy.

"Whiteclaw!" A stern voice sliced through the lion's dream cloud. Whiteclaw landed more awkwardly than he'd intended, forepaws skidding, tearing green grass from its roots. The butterfly circled once over his head, teasing, before lifting up on the breeze Whiteclaw's movement had created and sailing away.

Whiteclaw turned. Another lion sat atop a flat boulder, on the far end of the enclosure. His mane was a stark scarlet, smooth and flowing down his shoulders. "Stop storytelling and get over here. No one was listening to you, anyway."

Whiteclaw shook dust from his dark mane. "Sunray was listening to me," he huffed.

Sunray, a slender lioness, got to her paws. Her large belly swayed beneath her as she walked breathlessly towards Redmane. "Catch a real rabbit. Then I'll be impressed."

Rubbing affectionately against Sunray, Whiteclaw nosed her swollen stomach. "Just wait. Our cubs are going to love my stories." His amber eyes shone.

Sunray sat down at the foot of Redmane's boulder, focused on the lion looming over her, but she still spoke to Whiteclaw. "Maybe they'll actually believe them," she purred.

Whiteclaw sighed. One day he'd show them. He'd catch a rabbit. He didn't particularly see the point of it; the humans had always brought them their rabbits already dead, waiting to be eaten, but recently they'd been occasionally putting live ones in their cage, on the days when no other humans were around.

Redmane lashed his tail as a second lioness joined them at the foot of the boulder. "I have something to warn you all about," he told them. "A storm's coming."

"Oh, here we go." Whiteclaw rolled his eyes. "When will you get it, Redmane? Storms aren't dangerous. And if they are, we've got a place to hide." He angled his head towards a rickety wooden lean-to structure, lined with straw and with silver bowls of fresh water waiting for them whenever they needed.

"This is a bad storm," Redmane cautioned, eyes blazing with frustration. "Can't you sense it? And haven't you noticed the humans acting so oddly?"

With a roll of his eyes, Whiteclaw looked around. Sure, the humans had seemed on edge lately, and some unusual things had been happening. He'd seen large, roaring buildings on wheels moving around, with the anxious rustling of animals inside them, like some of the animals were being taken away from the zoo. But they hadn't been moved. It didn't affect them.

"I've finished the hole in the fence," Redmane informed them, his gaze fixed on the far end of the cage. Beneath the tangled bushes at the edge of the enclosure, Redmane had been working on making a hole in the fence. He'd been working on it for the whole time they'd lived here, the hole hidden by the bush. Whiteclaw couldn't understand it. Sometimes Redmane would return from making the fence hole with his claws frayed and bloodied. How could he be that desperate to escape?

"If anything goes wrong," Redmane growled authoratively, "use that hole and escape."

"We know, Redmane." The new lioness spoke up for the first time, a gleam of affection in her eye.

Redmane sprang down from the rock to her level. "I'm sorry, Lostmane." He rubbed his golden head against hers. "I just have a bad feeling. I need to know we can get out of here if we need to."

Whiteclaw shook his head. Trust Redmane to make a mountain out of a molehill.


	2. Chapter 2

That evening, Whiteclaw was beginning to regret taking Redmane's warning so lightly. The lean-to groaned under the weight of the wind, and a light rain was beginning to fall, quickly getting stronger. Already the storm had reached a frightening intensity, almost strong enough to take down their shelter.

But they were safe. Outside, he could hear the anxious shouts of the humans and see torchlights bobbing, briefly lighting up the corners of the enclosure and casting patterned shadows on the ground from the fence. Peering out into the downpour, which was beginning to lash at the tree in their cage with new ferocity, he caught a glimpse of a face looking back at him, the striped face of Treeclimber, the cat next door. He was an unusual cat, a tiger, with orange fur crisscrossed with stripes, so that it was sometimes hard to see him in the shadows of the fence and the undergrowth in his enclosure. His mate, Bluestripe, was also striped. Maybe they'd spent too long in the shadows, because there was so much undergrowth in their cage. That was why they had shadows in their fur.

Treeclimber's face was outlined in a small white mane; nothing compared to a lion's mane, but at least it made him easy to spot. The tiger caught Whiteclaw's gaze and nodded politely at him, but even the enormous striped cat looked unnerved by the ever-increasing gale.

Whiteclaw's ears twitched at the sound of the metal gate creaking open. One of the humans entered, yelling to the others. The shelter on wheels roared, and began to reverse into the gate.

They were going to get put in there! They were going to get taken away!

Whiteclaw spun round, heart leaping in his throat. "Redmane! Look!"

Redmane snarled, narrowing his eyes to peer through the downpour. The red lights at the rear of the moving shelter glowed softly, outlining every raindrop. "Just avoid them. If it comes down to it, we'll have to fight. They're not taking us." His voice was steady, a point of calm in the storm. But his eyes were wide, verging on panic.

Whiteclaw nodded, turned and nudged Sunray to her paws. She groaned, and Whiteclaw felt a stab of fear and guilt. His mate was on the verge of giving birth, and here he was dragging her out into a storm such as this. But, left alone, Sunray was an easy target for the humans.

The human in the cage paused. A flash of fear passed his gaze, before he pushed it aside and began to back up, reaching for the front of the moving shelter.

A glint through the rain. There was a silver sleep-stick in there. Whiteclaw had seen one of them used before, not too long ago, when they had shot Sunray with it and taken her out of the cage. She'd returned later, though, alive and well.

But this was large-scale. All the animals were being taken. Whatever happened tonight, they could not go with the humans.

Whiteclaw sprang forward. He felt sick, begging someone in his head to forgive him. Who he was begging, he didn't know.

The lion's heavy paw struck the human, knocking him away from the roaring shelter. He stood, barring the way, fangs glinting.

There was a yell from another human outside the enclosure. The moving shelter snarled; the red lights bobbed. Then the shelter on wheels moved forward, out of the cage.

Slowly, Whiteclaw stepped back, letting the human pass. They'd given up. With a snarl, he turned and pounded back to the shelter, soaked mane fur clinging to his body.

Redmane nodded gratefully to him, Sunray leaning on his shoulder. "Well done. Now that the humans are gone, we need to leave." He looked towards the gap in the fence.

Whiteclaw looked up. And gasped. His muzzle wrinkled in a sudden snarl of what he hoped was defiance, but sounded of pure terror.

Redmane swung his head round. Behind them, thick clouds rolled down the mountain that supported the sky behind the zoo. And, next to the mountain, the clouds were being dragged, whipped around into a shape that reached up to the sky and ripped grass from the roots, picking up branches and boulders, tossing them aside like prey.

"Outside! Now!" Redmane roared, a voice that gave no option to argue. Certain that Sunray would be safe with Redmane, Whiteclaw bolted for the fence.

Never had he ran so fast. Whiteclaw's paws skimmed the grass, his head low, the rain whipping strands of mane into his face, painful as thorn tendrils. He dived beneath the bush, wriggling, twisting free of the branches. The fence's jagged edges scraped his back, combed through his fur, almost sharp enough to break his skin. But then he was through, bursting into freedom with a roar that was almost drowned out completely by the wind's force, silencing him.

Panting, resisting the urge to flee, he turned. Redmane was haring towards him. Alone.

Fresh panic slammed into Whiteclaw's chest, and he gasped like the breath had been knocked out of him. It felt like being winded. Fears for himself forgotten, he charged towards the fence. "Redmane!" he screamed. The wind caught his voice, twisting it around his head so that the word rang in his ears, taunting him. No one else could hear him. "Redmane! Where's Sunray?"

Redmane pelted through the fence gap, Lostmane catching up and ducking through behind him. But Sunray was not alongside their leader.

Barging roughly past, Whiteclaw leapt for the fence. Taking in what was happening, Redmane spun round on one hind paw, claws desperately snagging Whiteclaw's fur, trying to stop him. He heard a shout of his name, just reaching his ears before the wind snatched it away. But the shout didn't register.

A rumble shook Whiteclaw's heart, louder even than the shelter on wheels, deafening, like a snarl of thunder, but much closer. Glancing up momentarily in his struggle through the bramble bush, Whiteclaw could have sworn the mountain was trembling.

That thought, that moment, froze in his mind. The split second before the mountain gave way.

All of a sudden, the rocks halfway up the mountain seemed to split. The mountainside appeared to explode, rocks suddenly tumbling, churned up by the wind. Like releasing a river, the mountainside began to fall, rocks tumbling towards the animal cages, churning, destroying. The rock fall loomed over the lion's cage, over Sunray. Whiteclaw could see her now, crouched in terror, her jaws open in a wail that was silenced by the wind.

Whiteclaw wriggled free of the last tendrils a moment before the heavy rock struck, slamming into the side of his head, knocking him away from his mate. He heard a cry of horror, a yell from behind him, and then silence.


End file.
